


the heart wants what compulsory heterosexuality conditions it to want

by dovekiss



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 1990s, Coming of Age, F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, Sexuality Crisis, Yeojoo/Sangah, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22994119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovekiss/pseuds/dovekiss
Summary: "Does it seriously look like... this?""Well," huffed Sangah, who was embarrassed to be the bearer of the bad news when she had promised to show her unnie something totally taboo and totally cool, "what did you expect?”
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	the heart wants what compulsory heterosexuality conditions it to want

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be out for femslash february  
> oh well  
> possibly the last monstax fic that i upload

There was not a whisper of breeze in the branches of the old maple, no hummingbirds shaking their wings. Silence reigned in Sangah's tiny tree house. It was so absolute and solemn that Yeojoo felt the nape of her neck stiffen.

The girls were sitting on opposite sides of the pillow-speckled wooden floor. They were drowning in a deep gloom, as Sangah had pulled a curtain over the only window that let light in.

The curtain used to hang in Sangah's kitchen if Yeojoo could trust her memory, the flowy voile decorated with irises that made her think of sleepovers and cereal. Sangah hated the curtain as passionately as any self-proclaimed teenage rebel could hate anything flower-patterned and vaguely yellow, but now both girls thanked for the illusion of solitude and privacy that the piece of fabric provided them.

A suspenseful moment passed. Sangah strained her ears for intruders and then finally pulled a shiny, crumpled magazine from underneath her jacket. She looked very important while doing so, but the air of sovereignty left her as she flipped the magazine open. She looked down. Yeojoo looked down. They grimaced. Sangah quickly leafed through the pages.

More grimaces.

The silence did not last much longer. Yeojoo lifted an eyebrow.

"Does it seriously look like... this?"

"Well," huffed Sangah, who was embarrassed to be the bearer of the bad news when she had promised to show her unnie something totally taboo and totally cool, "what did you expect?”

"I don't know,” replied Yeojoo evenly. She took the magazine out of Sangah's hands and slowly flipped it over so the object of her critical stare wouldn't be upside down. "Did _you_ expect it to look like this?”

That took the wind straight out of Sangah's sails. She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times. Her helplessness grew larger and took root.

"I expected to like it," admitted Sangah bitterly.

"I don't like it at all."

"Right?"

Yeojoo shook her head and closed the magazine full of vulgar photographs with a dismissive flick of the wrist. She returned the offensive piece of literature to Sangah, who grabbed it helplessly and immediately started to search through it as if frenzied, probably looking for that elusive _something_ that attracted women of all generations and nationalities to men; and more specifically, naked men. Her face twisted, the corners of her mouth withering.

"They're like—" Sangah stopped short. She didn't seem to find a word that would satisfactorily describe naked men, let alone a word that would capture what the close-ups of their intimate parts reminded her of.

Yeojoo, being the older, had a richer vernacular.

"Like crusty churros that got steamed for some reason."

"Yeah!" cheered Sangah, then sagged in disappointment that _that_ was the closest to describing the weapon of mankind, the holy grail of tantalizing romance novels, the pride of all boys who could barely use it—the dick. She closed the copy and threw it. This had to be her karma for stealing porn. "Maybe there's only weird guys in this one," she suggested hopefully.

"Can that kind of slimy scrunchy thing even look any different?"

"I hope so."

"Maybe you're right."

"This wasn't worth the risk at all," groaned Sangah.

"Who did you steal the magazine from?" asked Yeojoo. Her features tightened disapprovingly.

"My brother. Ugh, I can't believe he's one of the churros people."

"Your brother is ..."

"Apparently."

"Oh."

"According to mom he's is experimenting, whatever that means."

"To each their own," said Yeojoo.

"Hey, unnie. Don't you feel like what we have is normal in comparison to this? And way prettier?"

Yeojoo stirred to shake off the tension in her shoulders.

"Could be a matter of habit."

"I guess." Sangah proceeded to murder the magazine with her eyes for a minute and then sourly got up to pick it up. She smoothed the pages and stuffed it under her jacket. Then she hesitated and pulled it out again. She thumbed through the pages stubbornly. "This sucks. There aren't any articles about sex either! It's all about how to wax my butthole."

“That could come in handy when you're older. You never know when you'll need a waxed butthole,” deadpanned Yeojoo.

"I'm old enough to know that I'm not waxing my butthole for anyone, like, ever,” Sangah shot back.

She would only do it if Yeojoo dared her to, or something, but Yeojoo was the smart one. The one who usually talked Sangah _out_ of bad decisions. Not that being smooth and “kissable”—according to the article—sounded particularly bad.

The tree house sank back into silence.

"I suppose at this age we don't need to know or like these things yet," proposed Yeojoo tentatively.

Sangah snorted. "All we need to know is that storks don't deliver babies, or that babies don't grow on trees," she added with some irony.

"If they did, you'd still be hanging on one and collecting worms,” said Yeojoo, smiling.

"That's what my dad says," admitted Sangah and she grinned because being the bad seed gave her the utmost sense of importance and accomplishment. "Says I'm rotten fruit. Always goes on about how I'm _corrupting_ you or something...”

Yeojoo glanced at the magazine. Her gaze sparkled with amusement.

"And aren't you?"

"As if you're complaining, unnie."

Yeojoo _did_ indeed complain, and very often, but Sangah could render herself conveniently deaf to those complaints or else combat them with strategic puppy stares.

When Yeojoo returned home that evening, there was still not a whisper of breeze in the branches of the maple trees and the night birds weren't singing yet.

Taking off her coat, Yeojoo peeked into the dining room and spotted her brother sitting with his back to her.

"What's for dinner?" she called.

"Churros,” he replied happily.

All appetite left her. She was going to spank Sangah raw.


End file.
